


The Kebabbery - Director's Commentary

by Ephemera_pop (Alex_Draven)



Series: The Kebabbery [3]
Category: Popslash
Genre: Author Commentary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-20
Updated: 2006-09-20
Packaged: 2018-10-16 23:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10582080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_Draven/pseuds/Ephemera_pop
Summary: A Director's Commentary on the writing of this AU





	1. Chapter 1

"You want the N21 for London Bridge, okay? G’night, ladies."

_This is a real night bus route, and it does run from Trafalgar Square so it works with my mental location for Kelly's Kebabs, off Charing Cross Road, on the non-Soho side, somewhere between Tottenham Court Road and Cambridge Circus. And from a story point of view, it was a way of making the setting nice and clear._

Joey waved the trio of stumbling girls off towards the night bus stop, before drying his hands on the towel tucked through the ties of his apron. They were the tail end of the post-club rush, and a quick scan of the shop confirmed that, while almost all the tables were full, everyone had their orders, and he could actually make out the song on the radio above the buzz of conversation.

_Way back when I was first talking to one of my friends about nsync, she asked to see a photo of the group, and then asked me which ones my favorites were. I pointed out Chris and Joey, and she looks at me and says 'so the two you fancy are the ones who look like they should be running a kebab shop?'. I cracked up, and an idea was born. Said friend has been ~~force fed~~ offered this story, and is a little scared…. _

Chris slammed shut the dishwasher door and re-appeared by Joey’s side, leaning close and warm against him for just a second, before announcing he was going for a fag break.

_The five year old in me is amused by the potential reaction of unsuspecting Americans to the term 'fag break'. [in English English it means a cigarette break]_

"Ten minutes, okay." They’d worked together far too long for Chris to take Joey’s stern tone seriously.

"Sure thing, boss." Chris mocked a salute, and then before Joey could speak, "And yes, I’ll wander down to Brian’s if you make up the drinks while I’m getting my coat."

"He hasn’t called in yet." Joey twisted around to check the red-framed clock high on the wall. "It’s not quite half past yet."

Chris snorted. "If he doesn’t phone in the next three minutes, I’ll wash down both fridges tonight, _and_ scrub out the chilli pans."

_I really wanted to set up this very laid back happy working relationship straight away. I actually planned more scenes in the kebab shop, but there wasn't really anywhere to put them or any point to them. I did have an email conversation with a friend who used to work in a kebab shop as I was writing this, and she described scrubbing out the curds of long-boiled chili sauce as the single worse job, eye-watering in the literal sense. My own fast food experience added the fridges – at least cleaning the grills has fire involved. I also wanted to sketch in this wider network of 'regulars' around Kelly's before introducing Justin and Lance._

"Sucker bet, Kirkpatrick." Joey was already lining up polystyrene cups.

Chris’s boots were audible, clattering through the back room, when the phone rang. Joey scooped up the handset, settling it against his shoulder and answering without really pausing with his preparations.

"Kelly’s Kebabs. You got Joey …. Hey Brian, how’re you doing? … three teas, one black coffee, and a coke – okay. Nick not working tonight, then? …. Don’t worry about it – I’ll get Chris to run ‘em over: it’ll be about five minutes. Sure thing."

_At one point I had the whole of Backstreet working in the cab office, but my recipient's second pairing choice was Justin / Kevin and AJ the bartender was just too good to skip. Seeing as I have Matt Busted in the bar, James and Charlie can fill the other cabs._

When Chris reappeared wearing a long black trench-coat Joey wordlessly tossed him a can of coke.

"Bagsie the fridges then," Chris replied, making the can disappear into one of his pockets before ducking under the counter to lean against the door frame and light up his cigarette. Joey added a handful of sugar packets to the cardboard tray, and splashed milk into the three of the cups. He checked all the lids were on tight before sliding it across for Chris to take down to the minicab office.

"Give my love to the boys," Joey teased, grinning when Chris gave him the finger.

"Just you wait, Fatone. One of these days he’ll say yes and you’ll never see me again," Chris warned.

"Like you could stay away."

"Bet you say that to all the boys." A new voice joined the conversation as Justin appeared over Chris’s shoulder. Chris stepped back with a wave, promising to catch the newcomers in a few.

_There's just not enough Chris / Justin interaction in this. In my head they're the two who really spar and tease most of the four in the shop. I think I sketched it in, but I do wish I'd got more of that into these kebab shop scenes._

"Hey guys!" Joey greeted them with a smile as Lance followed Justin into the shop. "How’s tricks?"

Justin was still in his uniform baby-t with the bar’s name picked out in glitter across his pecs. A sliver of hips was on display above his jeans and his short jacket was draped over one shoulder despite the cold night. Lance, by contrast, had topped off his cord jacket with a long scarf that he was loosening as they looked around for an empty table.

"Mad busy," Justin replied. "And the Doc here has been experimenting again, and you know he can’t come up with a theme cocktail that’s less than three stages to prep."

Lance inclined his head, evidently taking that as a compliment.

Lance had been coming in for falafels and company for months now. Justin had been only been tagging along for about two weeks, ever since he broke up with his ex-girlfriend, apparently, but he had been instantly chatty and made himself immediately at home. This time of night, as the last of the clubbers were crawling home and the staff of the local venues and bars started to escape, Joey and Chris had plenty of time to get to know their regulars. Lance was a mixologist at Bar Zed, where Justin was one of the waiters. Kind of like Tom Cruise in Cocktail, Justin had explained, when he first came in, spinning one of the ketchup bottles on the palm of his hand before tossing it back under arm and snatching it out of the air above his head.

_Info dump, I know, but I had to get it in somehow. Incidentally, the bar was called Bar Zoo right up until I thought to Google for the name before hitting 'submit', and was reminded that there's a real Bar Zoo in the relevant area, and my whole thing was to make London real, but the specific locations not. I have a friend who's a cocktail waiter and geek, who does some flair, so I was able to do some reasonable research, and those two in those roles have been around almost as long as the idea of the kebab shop. Justin the flash flair waiter just fits, and Lance the cocktail geek fills me with glee._

Three older guys, who’d been sitting at the table closest to the end of the counter mopping up a night of drinking with doner-and-chips, pushed their chairs back noisily and made their way out. Joey waved them off and swooped to clear the mess, offloading the dishes and wiping the red check laminate over with a bleach rag before accepting the one-armed handshake-stroke-hug Justin offered him. Lance slid into the plastic seat with a grateful ‘Thanks, man.’

"Must have been a good night if it’s got you both worn out – usual, yeah?" Joey asked as he ducked back to the right side of the counter and dumped the discarded mugs on the worktop by the door to the back room.

"Please." "Extra chips, yeah?" came the replies, - Lance and Justin respectively - and Joey set to dropping a fresh basket of chips into the fryer before reaching into the chiller for the falafel.

_People think London's this big faceless city – and in some ways it is – but if you work and live in the same area for a while, these little networks of locals do build up, and I really wanted them to have this sort of easy, familiar place to come to at the end of the night – and this Joey would totally remember everyone who'd been in more than two or three times._

"He wasn’t kidding about us being mad busy," Lance admitted. "Yet another Christmas party. They were three deep all night, and I think I’ll have to restock about half the spirits before we open tomorrow. I just couldn’t face it tonight."

"You guys nearly done with the office parties?" Joey threw the question over his shoulder while he dropped Justin’s kebab onto the griddle. It sent up a sizzle of smoke and sharp lemon-garlic scent that cut through the warm fug of the shop.

"Nah, we’ve got at least one every day right up to Christmas Eve – although at least that one’s just an afternoon thing – Johnny’s only got us on till seven."

_DWNOGA was very good for this story – I had the idea for ages, but no plot and no real idea what the pairing ought to be – DWNOGA gave me the pairing and a time slot, which leads to the plot. Or it did, once I'd wailed and talked to nopseud a lot, and she suggested working Kevin in as the plumber later, as a nod to my recipient's second pairing choice._

"And you know what really sucks?" Justin added. "We’ve been hosting Christmas parties for ever, and yet we don’t get one. How’s that fair?"

"Life ain’t fair – news at eleven." Lance’s tone was dry, and Joey could just imagine his expression.

_I have a soft spot for world-weary cynical Lance. You may have noticed._

*****

Justin didn’t know how anyone ever went back to an empty room feeling like this, exhausted but buzzing. The kebab shop’s blend of companionship and comfort helped him to wind down and not end up bouncing off the walls back at the house. There were reasons why Justin did his best not to bitch about the hours he put in and the pay he took home, and ninety percent of them were that he fucking loved his job. Performing, playing with strangers, making the perfect drink, making someone’s night. He’d been so grateful to Lance for the invitation to join him for supper, the first night he’d worked after Britney finally moved her shit out of their room.

_Room, not flat. On a waiter's wage in London, just starting out – Justin's living in a houseshare with backpackers and friends of friends of friends in one of the bus-only bits of Zone Two, where he has to keep most of his food in his room and write his name on his milk, and there's always a note pinned to the fridge demanding that someone other than the note-writer do the washing up / empty the bins / put more credit on the electricity key._

The food was great, for one thing. Lance tried to sell the place on their falafels, but late at night, facing down the early morning metabolism dip, Justin wanted protein with his glistening chips. And oh did Kelly’s deliver – chicken kebab, charcoaled outside, sweet peppers and tart onions … It might look like any other dodgy kebab place, but Joey and Chris knew their shit, in Justin’s opinion. Also, Joey and Chris were totally sound. They’d made him feel welcome from day one, and if he’d ever thought that maybe it was a bit sad to have a kebab shop that knew you as a regular, that didn’t stop him coming by after work pretty much every night. He’d been in London long enough to appreciate it when people learned his name straight off. Especially when they looked like Joey.

_When it first happened to me, I was really thrown by this sandwich shop guy who greeted me with a big smile and started making up my sandwich without me ever saying anything. I didn't know if it was really cool or really sad. I've since decided that it's kinda neat. Although neither my sandwich guy, the bouncer at Gossips, or the bar manager at the Water Rats is half as cute as Joey._

Justin devoured more than half of the kebab before he paused long enough to take a swig from his bottled water, and to think about resuming his conversation with Lance. Who was also fundamentally sound, even if he was a stubborn bitch sometimes. Justin forced himself to stop watching Joey serving some lanky curly-haired guy, who was messing around with a burger order all ‘extra tomato’ and ‘hold the pickle’ while Joey smiled and repeated it back without a shred of visible sarcasm. Instead Justin stared at the side of Lance’s head until he turned round and caught his eye.

_Before I ever started writing this I knew I had to get 'hold the pickle' in to it somehow._

"No," Lance said, before Justin could even draw breath to ask again, and then took another mouthful of his food. Who the hell uses a knife and fork in a kebab shop, anyway?

"I’m serious, though. If we pooled with the Lollypops lot, kept it invite only, of course - staff and close friends - just a couple of hours? We wouldn’t even have to spring for cabs. It’d be great."

Lance took a mouthful of tea and wiped his fingers on a paper napkin before using them to count out his arguments.

"For one thing, because Johnny would kill us. And for two, keeping track of the tab. And for three, no one who works hospitality expects a Christmas party. Do they Joey?"

_Really, no, and if you're really lucky and you work in a hotel bar, you get to work right through Christmas Day too._

Lance twisted round on the bench seat to try and rope in reinforcements.

"We don’t _get_ one," Joey called across, before giving the lanky guy his change and waving him towards the seats at the back. "I’ll bring your food over, okay?" The guy said thanks and picked his way past Justin and Lance’s table to find a seat, while Joey got busy chopping tomatoes. There was something about the way he handled a knife, so confident and sure, that fascinated Justin. "Of course, that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be cool."

"See!" Justin blinked and turned his attention back to Lance with a pointed glare.

"Still no."

"You’re just mean."

Lance raised an eyebrow.

"What are we arguing about and can I play?" Chris appeared with a grin, dropping one hand on Lance’s shoulder and making him startle.

"Jesus, Chris!"

_Again with the only appearing in the edges, but the Chris / Lance dynamic also makes me grin. I think you can tell that I'm a trickyfish girl._

"You can give our pedicab guy his food, Chris," Joey interrupted firmly, sliding a plate across the counter.

"You’re not even going to let me take my coat off first?"

"Not if you’re going to start harassing the customers as soon as you get in, I’m not."

"Anyone ever tell you you’re a mean, mean person?"

"All the time. It’s a sad, sad thing," Joey dead-panned, all big brown soulful eyes. "Now give me your coat and go do some work!"

*****

The next night was a Tuesday – always a little quieter, as The Venue didn’t have a club night following the gig of the evening. Justin and Lance had pitched up and they’d been settled for a while. Joey was prepping marinade and humming along to Last Christmas when Lance said something Joey didn’t quite catch.

_If I was name dropping real places The Venue would be The Astoria on Charring Cross Road, who do normally have a club night immediately after their gigs, which means getting everyone off stage and out of the place between 10.45 and 11. It kinda kills the gig atmosphere, but the nearby fast food places and late night bars get good business out of it._

_Kelly's was inspired by the wonderful Dionysus, which is on the corner of Tottenham Court Road and Oxford Street, and which has recently re-opened after ebing gutted by a fire and closed for a year or two while the insurance stuff happened. It's no longer 24hrs, but it's close, and they do the *best* chips. The staff are unfailingly ace, and I have a lot of memories located there. It's not the same place, scale, or layout as Kelly's, but it's still the blueprint, somehow._

"Huh?" He shook the chopped chillies off his hands, and ran them under the rinse sink before strolling over to the end of the counter. Justin was kneeling up sideways on the bench seat, broad hands spread on the curved glass of the display, and Joey really did try not to notice the way his t-shirt rode up a fraction, showing off his firm flat stomach. Chris jabbed Joey in the side, and Joey elbowed back. "Sorry, I didn’t catch that."

"What my friend wa…"

"Colleague!" Lance interrupted.

"We’ve been off more than half an hour," Justin threw back over his shoulder

"Still wearing your uniform, though"

"Still don’t care."

Lance rolled his eyes, and from the corner table their new pet pedicab rider giggled, openly watching the byplay.

_This chunk of dialogue, with the description of Justin leaning on the display counter, was the very first thing that I wrote in this AU._

"Anyway," Justin continued. "My _friend_ would like to know if either of you fine fellows would like to come to the bar’s Christmas party."

"Thought Mr Mean wouldn’t let you have one?" Chris stretched up to get a clear view of Lance lounging half against the chair-back, half against the wall.

Joey wasn’t paying attention to Lance’s reply. He was watching Justin for a cue. Or possibly, if he was honest, just watching Justin, noting the pale growth of stubble on his jaw and the way his throat moved when he swallowed, and the slightly red patch on his neck where he’d been rubbing, faking nerves At least Joey assumed he was faking nerves; Joey’d never met anyone so self confident in his life.

_Watch Joey totally not notice Justin letching at him… Joey's a doll, but really not inclined to assume the hot guy he fancies is wanting him right back._

Justin’s grey eyes flicked back from watching Chris to catch Joey, and Joey smiled, reflexively. "That would be cool – if we can swing it. You really want us to come?"

"You guys are good people. Why wouldn’t we want you?"

"I dunno – I guess I only ever see you in here. Maybe you only come in for our delectable foodstuffs and excellent service at reasonable prices?"

"You calling me a customer?" Justin made that sound roughly equivalent to questioning his mother’s purity, despite the laughter in his tone.

"No, you idiot, he’s calling you a lazy bastard who never calls him." Chris cut in, and then turned, taking in Lance and the pedicab guy as his audience to pantomime ‘some people – touched in the head!' in the international sign language of irritating prats. Joey tried not to blush and leaned over to thwap Chris over the head.

When Chris ducked without even really looking and Joey had to pull his hand up sharpish to avoid knocking over the sauce bottles the pedicab guy finally surrendered to actual laughter. Even Lance had to smile. Joey bumped hips with Chris, and returned the smile his partner flashed him. So Chris was an annoying little bastard who was far too perceptive for his own good. They were a double act – and Chris had done far worse than that over the five years they’d worked together.

Chris grabbed a couple of cans of Lilt out of the chiller display and ducked under the counter to go sit with the new guy a spell. Joey figured he’d been in every night this week, and it was about time they all knew his name. Plus it would get Chris out of his hair for a little while.

_Lilt because I'm told it's hard to find in the USA, but it's more or less ubiquitous in the chiller fridges of late night kebab shops – eastern European recipe coke and diet coke, and Lilt. It's a fizzy tropical fruit drink, if you don’t know, which does seem like quite a JC thing to drink._

"So, Justin. How’d you persuade the Grinch here to let you have a party? I thought your manager was dead set against it?’

He flashed Lance a wink by way of apology, and tried to focus on what Justin was saying, rather than the way his lips moved.

*****

"You guys! You gotta stop dissing Lance – he set this whole thing up."

Lance made a ‘not my fault’ gesture with both hands, before returning to his dinner.

"Well – he set it up so I could talk to Johnny and explain, and he’s worked out this way we can split the tab with the Lollypops girls, so that whole argument was gone, and Johnny’s not, like, mean or anything, so, you know, I said I’d sort everything out and he said he’d let us if I could get Lollypops’s manager to agree to pay up. And the thing is, right? My man Lance, here, has a bit of a thing going with ‘Tina, so we figure she’ll say yes right away, so he’s going to ask tomorrow, and then I’ve got three whole days to organise a party in."

Justin forced himself to stop babbling and draw a breath. This being nervy thing was crap. Especially when Joey had already said yes.

"That’s pretty good going, guys." Joey grinned at the pair of them, this big open smile that Justin maybe kind of loved to see. "So your whole Scrooge thing last night was just cover, huh, Lance?"

Lance’s smile wasn’t a patch on Joey’s.

"If I can get Justin to do all the work, and those fine Lollypops girls to make me drinks all night..." Lance smirked. "It’ll be nice, actually. First time in a long time I’ve not been working a party Christmas Eve"

"Man, not you as well? What is it with gay clubs hiring straight barmen! – don’t tell me Lollypops is the same way?"

_Lollypops' name, incidentally, is a nod to The Candy Bar, although they're really not the same._

Justin thought for a second about the cute girls working the bar at Zed’s sister venue. "Nah, man, they’re all bonafide dykes. Brit went for a job there and she reckoned that’s why they didn’t hire her."

"As opposed to the fact she just wasn’t up to par," Lance observed dryly. Justin still had the reflexive urge to defend her, cut with the thought that maybe Lance had a point. "And anyway, Joey," Lance continued. "What’s with the binary? Don’t tell me you’re one of those narrow minded homos who refuse to believe in equal opportunity attraction."

"Yeah, cos I’m narrow anywhere," Joey snorted, holding his arms wide "I just haven’t met a girl I fancied since I was younger than the kid here. Doesn’t mean it works that way for everyo … hang on a sec."

Joey sidestepped back to the till to ring up a portion of chips for some guy in a hoodie who Justin hadn’t even noticed come in.

_There is no way for anyone except me to know that this is Mr Mather's tiny walk on part. 'Tina, the bar manager for Lollypops is obviously Christina. I did get a good number of 'extras' in to this set up, and Eminem *always* seems to show up in the whole-world AU's. I know this bugs some people, but personally I like it when the random folks in the background are also sparkly cast as appropriate._

The interruption kind of sucked, but at least it gave him a chance to get over the little hop-skip in his chest at the confirmation that maybe he was in with a chance. When he looked round Lance was watching him with laughter in his eyes.

"What!"

"Nothing." Lance sounded about as innocent as a Kings Cross hooker, but, lacking a witty come back, Justin just glared.

_Are there people who don't know that Kings Cross used to have a serious low-class hooker and drugs issue? They've mostly cleaned up by driving them up the road to Camden over the past few years._

*****

Kelly was still hard at work when Joey came in on Wednesday. She had colonised the far corner booth entirely with order books and piles of paper, and was sitting with her back to the rest of the room. It was blustery and grey and bleak, pitch dark at just past five, and the shop was a warm welcome glow. He loosened his scarf as he approached, and then made her squeal with a frozen hand to the back of her plump neck. She slapped him away, smiling, and then snuggled further into her fuzzy cardigan.

"Hey, it’s cold out there! And I’ve always told you you’re hot."

"Careful, mister, Steve’s out back…."

"Yeah, yeah, sister-mine." Joey smiled back. Breaking up with your girlfriend from school only to have her hook up with your big brother three weeks later might have been a nightmare to live though when you were seventeen, but years later, Joey was glad of it. Having her be family was a far better outcome of his rather messy coming-out than he’d had any reason to expect back then. "Actually, Kel, can I have a word?"  
_I love Kelly. I know having an AU is a great chance to have a Joey-pairing without having to mention Kelly, but I wanted her in – I think she's great, and the little that we see of her and Joey, they're so great … plus having Steve jump on her weeks after she breaks up with his little brother just amused me, with the 'skeevy Steve' thing._

"Shoot." She gestured to the bench seat along the wall, and Joey slid into it, opening his coat as he went.

"Christmas," he started.

"Yep. Big holiday thing, something to do with all this tinselly stuff, they tell me."

"Yeah, that. I had a thought. You know Bar Zed, right?"

"Swanky cocktail place over on the square, yeah?"

_Soho Square, not Trafalgar Square._

"That’s the one. Some of their staff come in here after their shift’s done." Joey hesitated when Kelly’s smile widened. "What?"

"You hooked up with that guy you fancy and you want to invite him over for Christmas dinner – am I right?"

"Kelly!" Joey looked around to make sure no one could have overheard, and then continued at a more modest volume. "No. Really no. How do you know about him, anyway?"

"You think I don’t talk to the other guys?" Kelly rolled her eyes, like it should have been obvious. Joey resolved to do something really mean to Chris later. "Okay, so you didn’t catch him yet - what were you going to ask?"

"Okay, they’re putting together a last minute Christmas party for their staff – them and their partner bar – Christmas Eve, maybe forty, fifty, people? And they’ve invited me and Chris, right? So, I was thinking." Kelly nodded, giving him space to carry on. "What if I offered to source all the catering stuff, and got them to invite all our lot in exchange – make it a joint thing? I mean – we’d be closing up anyway, right around when their thing’s going to start, and … What’d you think?"

One of the thing he never had stopped loving about Kelly was the way she took time to think things through before she spoke, and that you could see the moment something struck her as pleasing, like sunlight rolling over her whole face.

"I think that’s a great idea, Joe. A damn fine idea. Ricky’s off back to Spain after tomorrow, but the rest of us are all around over Christmas, and … yeah. Okay. Talk to your – whoever."

_Ricky Martin, obviously. I was trying to be reasonably realistic about how the party could come together, how the various bosses will cover the bills and stuff, but at the end of the day, I also wanted a party, and everyone in dress up clothes._

"Lance. He’s the shift manager," Joey interrupted.

"Right – talk to Lance, and if they’re up for it, and you can get the cash-and-carry stuff done without messing up my shift rotas or taking our account over limit, let’s do it. It’ll be fun. I haven’t had a real dress-up party to go to for ages."

Joey felt himself smiling. "You’re a doll, Kel. It’ll be good, I swear."

_I so very nearly had Joey call her a diamond – as in 'diamond geezer', but Joey's not quite that Romford. Mile End / Bow, maybe, but not full out Essex._

"I trust you, despite years of experience, so, yes. You have my blessing. Just let me know what to tell everyone as soon as it’s sorted, okay? Now – get your fat bum back to work."

"Yes, m’am." Joey grinned, and leaned down to give her a light kiss on the cheek as he went. He only realised he was humming BandAid when he got to the kitchen and Steve, who was mixing up another batch of lamb for the elephant’s leg, joined in.

*****

It was only just after six, but Justin was already chilled to the bone and tired from pushing and shoving his way through the crowds on Oxford Street. Christmas shopping was evil, and as a way of spending your only day off for a week – and more money than you could really afford - it was double evil. He forced his way through the knots of people doing god knows what by Tottenham Court – because, really, right outside one of the busiest stations is a great place to stop dead for a chat, he growled mentally – and headed down towards Kelly’s. He needed a cup of coffee that didn’t cost an hour’s wages, and somewhere to thaw out until the rush hour went away. And a new pair of gloves. The handles of the many carrier bags he was weighed down with were cutting into his fingers and he almost couldn’t tell, he was that cold.

_The one thing I really wish I'd remembered to tweak before I submitted this is to mention that Justin was shopping for a present for his mum, and going somewhat overboard because a) she's his mum and b) he feels bad about not going home for Christmas. Also – there are always idiots who stop dead to chat right on the corner by TCR tube, and it always makes me want to kill, maim, or scream._

He was squinting against the damp, bitter wind, and the pedicab guy had rung his bell three times, a shrill delicate sound against all the noise, before Justin registered that it had anything to do with him.

"Hey, you’re Justin, right? Want a lift?"

Justin squinted harder, and recognised the curly hair peeking out from underneath the pink hat. "Hi. From Kelly’s, right? I’m heading down that way, actually – too fucking cold to stay out here any longer."

_This is actually taken from life – someone I met at a club a few times, who turned out to drive a pedicab, stopped me on Oxford Street and gave me a lift because he was a really nice guy. His pedicab wasn't particularly pink though, and I mostly wasn't in fear for my life, but it did take me a long minute to realize he was talking to me in the first place, because normally pedi-cab people who are talking to you are trying to persuade you to pay for a ride...._

"JC – nice to meet you." JC stuck out a gloved hand, and Justin had to juggle his bags to get a free hand to shake with. "Hop in and I’ll take you over. It’s not out of my way."

Justin thought about arguing, and then noticed all the fake fur lining JC’s pedicab – pink with silver tinsel draped across the back and around the roof. Pink, and possibly also warm.

"Thanks man, that’s pretty cool of you."

Justin off-loaded his bags and stepped up into the low-slung seat. JC checked around them for a gap in the traffic, and then stood up on the pedals, giving Justin a perfect view of his too-skinny backside and strong thighs.

Once they were underway, JC sat back down, and twisted round. "Christmas shopping, huh?"

"Yeah – you getting alright work out of the crowds?"

"Can’t complain. It’s neat to run into someone I know though. I moved up from Brighton about six weeks ago, and man, London’s big, you know?" JC slowed behind a bus, and then worked for a few cycles to get the momentum back up as they rattled down the busy road. Justin twisted his fingers into the fake fur throw and wished that maybe JC would look where he was going. "The friend you come in to Kelly’s with?"

_This JC so totally would have started out in Brighton, although that's not where he's from. I deeply suspect he's also vegetarian, and if this was set five years ago he'd have lived in Clays Lane after he moved to London…_

"Lance? What about him."

"Nothing! Just wondering if he’d be in tonight or if it’s his day off too."

"Nah, he’s working today. The bar manager’s away over the whole holiday so it’s all Lance, all the time."

"That kinda sucks. One of the things I like about doing this – we’re all self-employed. Only work when I want to, and all that."

"Sounds cool, man." They cornered a little sharply into the small side street where Kelly’s stood. It really wasn’t that far. Five, ten minutes walking, about the same as from the bar. "You coming in for a cup of tea?" Justin offered as they slowed to a stop.

"Thanks, cat, but no – busy time right now, and the cycling keeps me warm. Say hi to the guys for me, yeah?"

"Sure thing, JC – thanks for the ride."

Justin unloaded himself and his shopping, leaving the bags piled around his shins to give JC a weird sort of hand-grab hand shake before he peddled off into the grey, tinsel flashing in the lights. Justin shook his head, smiling to himself, and gathered up his possessions.

He had to back into the shop, pushing the door open with his hip, because his hands were so full, so when he turned round and actually registered what he was seeing it was an effort not to stop dead and stare.

Joey was standing on a turned-back table top, reaching up to do something in the top corner of the display window. Possibly something to do with the ropes of lights that had been chasing around the edges every other time Justin had come in, but that was an afterthought, because Joey’s apron strings were pulling his t-shirt up, revealing a slice of pale skin above the worn denim of his waistband, and his _arse_. Jesus. Filling out his jeans to perfection, firm and rounded and right there at eye level, like Justin could lean over and bite.

_Mmmmm. Pretty Joey. Also, there's a rule somewhere that all late night food places must deck the halls with tinsel and chaser lights for Christmas. An illuminated 'Happy Christmas' sign is optional. Mostly, though, this is an excuse for some letching._

Justin forced himself to blink, and finish coming in the door, with a ‘Hey, Joey’ that he could only pray sounded casual.

Joey twisted round, bracing himself with one hand on the window frame, and his smile thawed Justin’s mood almost at once. "Justin! Hey, man, didn’t expect you in today. Hang on sec, okay?" Justin nodded, shuffling his bags further into the shop, heading for one of the empty tables, while Joey hollered ‘Chris!’

Justin realised he was the only customer in the shop, and gratefully dumped all his bags around the legs of the booth nearest the counter. When he looked back Joey was tugging down his shirt with his free hand.

"Chris! – will you ge.."

"What!" Chris appeared.

"Pass us the screwdriver? Before I fall off this thing and break my neck?"

"That’s all? Man, I thought you’d seen the tooth fairy kissing Santa or something," Chris grumbled, ducking back into the stairwell before reappearing with the required tool.

"No, just having nightmares about being stuck up here for the rest of the night. Fucking things. Have we got any tape?"

Justin tried not to stare at the point on Joey’s thigh where Chris rested his hand as he passed up the screwdriver

"It’ll take the paint off."

"Do I look like I care, Chris?"

"Good point, well made." Chris turned to go through to the back again, and caught sight of Justin. "Man – I didn’t see you there! How’re you doing?"

"Not so bad – frozen though." Justin rubbed his hands together dramatically.

"Give me ten seconds to save Superman from having to stand there all night holding the lights up, and I’ll see what we can do to help with that."

"Sure. You need a hand, Joe?"

"Nah – I’m up here now, I just need some gaffer tape, and it’ll be fine."

_It has a light side, a dark side, and it holds the world together. All back rooms in all small shop or other establishments must have a roll of gaffer tape somewhere._

Joey turned back to the window, ducking down to peer outside, and Justin quietly enjoyed the opportunity to ogle with no one likely to notice. He worked with and around a lot of very pretty men – gym bunnies and label queens – but Joey wasn’t pretty. He was mouth-watering. Delicious. Biteable. Chris tossed a roll of gaffer across the shop, and Joey twisted easily to grab it out of the air, shirt riding up again. Justin made himself look away before he drooled.

"There," Joey announced, jumping down and landing with a solid thump. "All fixed."

Chris flipped a switch behind the counter, and the lights flared, before resuming their multi-coloured cycle. Justin applauded politely. Biteable, and Jesus but Joey’s smile just lit him up like – well – like Christmas.

"So, what can we do for you this fine and pleasant evening?" Joey asked, strolling over to rest one hand on the back of the chair opposite. Justin tried not to think about sucking those broad, calloused fingers.

"It’s a cold and filthy evening, and you know it. Just a coffee? Please?"

"Not raining in here, though." Joey smiled again. "Actually, I’m glad you’re here. I was having a chat with Lance not half an hour ago, and I was wanting to talk to you about this party."

*****

Joey traded shifts with Rico, on the logic that working New Years with Steve and Kelly was a small price to pay for getting to throw a Christmas party for all the guys, _and_ hang out with his favourite straight-boy fantasy. He spent half of his precious day off trawling for last minute Christmas presents, before ducking over to Camden to pick up a limited edition disc he’d had the guys at Resurrection put on hold for Chris. Bussing back down to the shop to drop off his bags and pick up the keys to Steve’s van he kept catching himself smiling.

_Rico is Enrique Inglassias._

_Resurrection Records is an indie record shop – Chris, although it's not made entirely explicit, is a bit of a not-very-ex punk type. Some days after having written this scene, (and the bit earlier where Chris is wearing a long black coat, which are the only clues you get, really) I went to a psychobilly gig where I ended up standing next to someone who was the spitting image of Chris. Seriously. I actually spent half a song trying to get a clear view of his forearms to check for ink. Army boots, worn jeans, black band t-shirt, interesting-but-work-safe hair with a high undercut, eyebrow piercing, cigarette …. Kebabbery!Chris. I had a moment of glee._

He used the back of his gloved hand to wipe a view-hole in the condensation fogging the window, trying to concentrate on the bustle of people on the pavement. Didn’t stop him smiling, though, or being hyper aware of the phone in his jean pocket, with Justin’s number in it, and a text that he’d sent earlier that afternoon with a brief smiley-filled message thanking Joey for handling the shopping.

_This image of Joey sat upstairs on a double-decker bus fills me with small private glee. Its also one of the things that makes this *London* rather than A.N. City – there's no reasonable reason for Joey to drive in central London, and I rather suspect that he doesn't have a car. Chris would drive something akin to The Minebringer that belongs to a friend of mine, big and black and excellent for following bands around the country, which he'd only bring into central London when he was helping someone move house or something. Lance might have a motorbike, but JC and Justin are definitely London Transport all the way._

Chris hadn’t even teased, once Justin had finally left and they’d worked through the pre-gig post-office customers. He’d started to, and then stopped mid sentence to squeeze Joey hard, once, around the ribs, and decide to wax philosophical about it instead, explaining that Joey might be about to make a twit our of himself, but at least this scheme had the benefit of the rest of them getting a decent party however it panned out. He’d added something about hoping that it did go well for Joey too, and then abruptly changed the subject, dialling up the radio volume, and waltzing around the shop floor with the mop, carolling a lewd mutation of ‘We Three Kings’.

_I don’t know if anyone else noticed this, but there's an awful lot of singing that goes on at Kelly's – I can not imagine these guys without a thread of music in the picture._

*****

Justin slid his customer her Sidecar with a smile and an ‘enjoy’, and was turning to rinse out the shaker when the phone riding in his hip pocket vibrated. He glanced up the bar to Lance’s station, and, seeing him safely chatting with two punters, slid his phone free to check the display. One new text. Justin figured that all his immediate customers were comfortably mid-drink, and that from their point of view checking a message under the cover of the bar and tidying his section probably didn’t look that different. Lance was smiling and flirting and thus unlikely to look over and see. Three key presses later he had his message : _At cash and carry – you free to talk? J._

After another quick check to make sure everyone seemed happy – and they did – Justin slipped down the bar, twisting his hips to avoid knocking into Alex as he leaned across to backhand a bottle of bourbon.

_My friend the cocktail geek has some stories to tell about working around his colleagues at speed in a tight space, with flying bottles and shakers – apparently it's called either 'the moves' or the ballet'. I like the idea of them being so well attuned to each other they just slide around each other._

He brushed his hand carefully against Lance’s lower back, discrete and out of sight. Lance finished up his anecdote with a chuckle, and excused himself to his customers.

"Can I take ten?" Justin asked. "I said I’d call Joey while he was at the cash and carry – make sure everything’s okay."

Lance glanced around the bar, which was mid afternoon mellow, with only six small groups dotted about, the buzz of their chatter barely rising above the jazz interpretations of Christmas songs Johnny had picked out.

"Sure. Me and Alex can cover – anything I need to know?"

"I think they’re all sweet," Justin assured him.

"Go on then." Lance nodded, and Justin scampered for the back room.

*****

Friday was Christmas-Eve-Eve, and it had gone six by the time Joey and Chris had managed to prise Kelly out of the kitchen, assuring her there would be enough quiet spots in the evening for them to get everything else finished up. It was nearly one am, but Joey was starting to believe that maybe it would get done after all. The refrigerators were stacked with marinating meat, all the veg was prepped, and the desserts were already over at Bar Zed, slowly defrosting in their back room.

_I know most kebab joints just microwave and fry whatever straight out of the packets, but Kelly's is a bit nicer than that – real meat and actual veggies._

"Houston, we have a problem." Chris leaned against the doorframe between the shop and the kitchen. The two steps up almost made him look tall. Joey was rolling falafel mix into tiny bite-sized balls in preparation for the party, and his hands kept going on auto-pilot while he looked over his shoulder, waiting for elaboration.

"That was Lance, on the phone," Chris continued. "He’s having a cow. Their whole plumbing system’s exploded or something. No water, no party … not for the company bash he’s going to have to pay the competition to fit in for him, and not for us."

Joey winced. Talk about shitty days, and Lance was enough of a mate for Joey to feel for him, separate from the subject of their own plans. "Shit. He must be – did he sound okay?"

"For a guy who’s dealing with an impromptu water feature where all the sinks used to be? Not really. I’m kind of surprised he remembered to call us at all, actually."

Joey wiped his hands off on his apron and rolled his shoulders back, easing the tight ache across the back of his neck. Just ‘cos most of the people who worked here were midgets was a crappy reason to make the worktops too low, in his opinion.

"That’s really, really, crap timing."

"Yeah – you try getting a plumber out the night before Christmas Eve."

"You telling me they’ve not got anyone out? That kid’s dealing with it on his own?"

Chris nodded, the careful exaggerated gesture of someone teasing the dangerously insane. "I told you – I’m surprised he called us at all, but what he was mostly doing was letting of steam about the impossibility of late night plumbing services. He’s got it off at the mains, but …."

Joey was already thumbing through the numbers in his phone.

*****


	2. Chapter 2

*****

Justin wrung the mop through the rollers a second time, squeezing out as much of the pale grey water as possible, and tried not to think about lost tips and late nights and the way his shoes were squelching. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder to the far table, where Lance was waging war on the world using ring binders and the bar’s cordless. He was scoring lines into his pad with undue force and control, and Justin was all kinds of glad that it wasn’t him facing Lance’s wrath.

The plumbing problem had had one redeeming feature, in that it had been dramatic. That meant it had been pretty easy to persuade the office party that had been in residence to move on out, although some of them had been down right nasty about damp coats and spoilt shoes. It was just that having the constant trickle of water from the rinse sinks suddenly turn into a high pressure fountain really didn’t put Justin in the best of moods for dealing with their trauma. So some guy’s suit jacket had gotten sprayed and his silk tie was never going to be the same again – Justin was drenched to the skin, eyes still stinging, and was stuck working late for no tips in uncomfortable wet jeans, and if he had to trash a perfectly good pair of trainers because they’d never dry out in his cold little bedsit…

The silent vibration of his cell phone in his pocket roused Justin from his thoughts. He glanced back at Lance and paddled swiftly towards the fire escape to take the call. No matter how many late shifts he worked, anyone phoning after midnight made him nervous.

_Hmm – unconscious Americanism sneaking in there – should have been 'mobile'. They're really not supposed to have their phones switched on while they're at work. Every bar I've ever worked in has had that rule, and everyone I've ever worked with has ignored that rule. The fire escape I'm imaging is a bleak internal staircase._

"Hey."

"Hey, Justin? It’s Joey. From Kelly’s?"

"Joe – hi!" Justin let out the breath he’d been holding. "What’s up, man?"

"Sounds like you’re the one with all the action going on." Joey’s voice was warm and welcome in Justin’s ear, even if he was starting to shiver, surrounded by unheated metal and concrete.

"So – Lance called you guys?"

"Yeah – how’re things going?"

"Nightmare. The place is a mess, and I think Lance is going to, like, bust a blood vessel or something. And the party that was in here when everything went pear shaped? What a bunch of wankers. Alex and Matt have gone over to Lollypops to boost their staff and try and keep ‘em happy, but … yeah. Sorry. I’m rambling."

"Justin. It’s okay. I called you up to see how you were doing, didn’t I?" If forced to testify in a court of law, Justin reckoned being cold and damp and thoroughly miserable would count for mitigating circumstances to justify the way Joey’s voice made him feel something like he was being hugged.

"Doesn’t mean you want all the gory details though. And I, um." There wasn’t really a polite way of saying ‘I figured you had an ulterior motive’, Justin realised.

"Actually, I was partly phoning you, and partly trying to get hold of Lance – the bar’s phone’s been engaged for ages – but, you know, always glad to be a listening ear."

Justin mostly heard the ‘having an ulterior motive’ part of that, and was careful to keep his voice casual when he offered to interrupt Lance’s current call to give him Joey on the mobile.

"Nah, Justin, don’t … just – look. If he’s not found anyone to fix things, get him to call me back, yeah? I’ve got a mate who might be able to help you guys out"

"No shit! That would be … you really are Superman, aren’t you?"

"Well, I try."

Justin could hear the smile in Joey’s voice, and found himself smiling back, despite himself.

*****

Christmas eve morning. Well, that was the problem right there. Morning. Joey hunched inside his jacket and hid another jaw cracking yawn behind his hand. He’d been home less than six hours, and now, here he was, heading back up to town. Kev shifted in the driver’s seat, and the volume of the perky DJ chatter jumped.

_The one thing I don't love about London are our local radio stations. *shudder* The radio at Kelly's is probably stuck on Capital FM, and I wouldn't put it past Kevin to be tuned to Talk106._

"Bastard," Joey mumbled, with no real malice.

"I need you awake, mate." Kevin smiled, obviously enjoying himself. "You never told me an address for this place. And you promised me coffee."

"I’ll get you fucking coffee just as soon as you stop for petrol." Joey grumbled. "And you’ll get me awake when I get coffee. Some of us work night shifts"

"Some of us are doing the other one a favour," Kevin pointed out as he slipped through a changing light in the wake of a delivery truck. "I was meant to be on holiday today, taking Kristin out shopping and all that."

Joey pressed his feet into the floor of the van and tried not to wince as the delivery truck braked in front of them.

"Brent Cross on Christmas Eve and you think you’re doing me the favour?" Joey teased. "I do appreciate it, mate, just give us a chance to wake up, yeah?"

_Kevin has clearly moved out to Ilford or beyond as his business has grown. Brent Cross is a giant shopping centre in Essex. I'd claim Joey's reaction as classic authorial insert, but really – a giant shopping centre on Christmas eve – no one thinks that's a fun idea, do they?_

"How about a chance to get us some fucking coffee?" Kevin offered, flicking his indicator a fraction of a second before swerving into the forecourt of a garage. "I’ll fill up, you pay, yeah?"

_I didn't set out to include this scene for the sheer bloody minded joy of not having to worry about remembering 'gas' and other bits of American English terminology to do with automobiles, but seeing as it happened, yes, I did quite enjoy not having to correct myself for petrol and garage and so forth._

"Okay, okay." Joey gestured with both hands. "White and three, yeah?"

"How’d you remember that stuff?" Kevin smiled, cracking the van door and letting in a wave of cold air.

*****

Lance had kicked Justin out about two am, and told him not to be back until noon. He’d suspected that if Lance was going to get any sleep at all it would be on one of the bar’s sofas, and Lance’s rumpled appearance when the bar manager opened the doors for Justin confirmed that he’d been right.

"Lance, man, are you okay?" Justin reached out automatically, rubbing Lance’s shoulder.

"God, it’s freezing out here – get in, Justin." Lance backed up, and Justin followed. "I’m okay. Joey and his friend the plumber showed up about a couple of hours ago – Kevin’s still investigating, but he might be able to fix things after all."

"That’s cool! Fingers crossed, huh?" Justin gesticulated appropriately. Lance shrugged, heading back towards the bar.

"It’s really good of him to come out. I mean – it’s too late now for the Rocher party, but at least we’ll be squared away for next week."

"And tonight," Justin added.

Lance pinched at the bridge of his nose. "I’d forgotten that!" he admitted. "Yeah, tonight. God."

"You’re really not on your game, are you?"

Lance’s laugh was short and bitter. "Really, not. Actually – can you head over the road and pick up some coffee?"

Justin glanced over to the bar, where Joey was leaning over, talking to someone Justin couldn’t see. "Actually, Boss Bass, is there anything you need to be doing here that I couldn’t handle while you go home and get some sleep?"

"Justin!"

"Seriously, Lance. You look wrecked, and if the Rocher thing has already been cancelled, it’s just setting up for tonight, right? I can do that. The other guys are over at Lollypops until they close, yeah?"

"Yeah, although, Justin, you’re not…" Lance waved his hands. Justin remained perfectly ignorant as to what he’d been trying to express.

"And you are, right now?" he countered.

"Okay. Point. Um." Lance closed his eyes, and this time he let Justin rest one hand on his upper arm. "Okay – let’s go talk to Kevin, see if he can fix things, and then, I’ll see, okay?"

"Okay."

Joey looked up as they got closer, and greeted Justin with a broad smile and a one armed hug that somehow made the morning less bleak.

"Hey, Justin, I told you we’d get this fixed up. This is Kevin, by the way."

"I had every faith, Superman." Justin smiled back at him, and carefully ignored the small shake of Lance’s head. Instead he leaned over the bar and addressed a ‘hi, Kevin’ to the long denim-covered legs that he could see sticking out from under the sink. Plumber in a gay bar out of hours – Justin was pretty sure he’d seen porn films that used that as a set up.

_I regret to this day that there was no rational reason for Kevin to show up at the kebab shop to fix something, which would have given Chris the perfect opportunity to start singing wacka-wacka porn music very loudly until someone thwaped him._

"So, Kevin, what’s the prognosis?" Lance raised his voice slightly to carry.

_This Lance has the benefit of a university education._

The guy who emerged from behind the bar was – shit. Guys in porn films just weren’t that hot. Justin had no idea what Kevin had been saying for the last thirty seconds or so because he’d been drinking down the long lean lines and the dark eyes and the way those long-fingers stroked over each other as he dried off his hands. Justin grabbed at the Lance’s reaction for context and found himself saying "That’s great news – thanks Kevin!" before catching Joey’s eye and having to look away quickly.

*****

Kevin and Lance had a fairly brief but intense conversation about repairs and costs, which Justin seemed determined to involve himself in, with a complete lack of subtlety which Joey felt he needed a moment or two to process. The closely attached thoughts; ‘apparently Justin likes guys’ and ‘apparently Justin likes Kevin’ sent Joey’s heart on a quick rollercoaster.

Joey forced himself to look away, and allowed his attention to wander, taking in the bar. He’d never actually been in here before; the dark wood and glass doors and the circulating crowd of media types had made him think it wasn’t really his sort of place before he’d got to know Lance. It certainly was swanky, all mood lighting and leather high-back couches, with little steps and low, heavy tables and recessed corners full of leather-covered throw cushions to break up the seating and a long clean sweep of bar surface down the length of one wall. Even with the main lights on Joey could imagine how the mirror backs and glasses and rows of bottles would glisten and glitter under the spots. The Christmas decorations ran to real evergreen swatches and crimson lilies – not a flashing light or a bit of tinsel anywhere in sight. Kelly was going to fucking love it.

_For the record, I've still not seen a scan of the real Kelly's Christmas decorating spread, so I could be a million miles off the mark, but the Kelly in this reality gets a kick out of the luxurious and classy vibe._

_Edit to add – I have now, both Lance's and their own house, and given what she did with theirs? I stand by this sentence._

Imagining the place filled with people having a great time and Justin shining in his element made him suspect that he wasn’t going to be having that bad a time of it either. And who knows, maybe there’d be someone there who fancied a bit of Christmas cheer – they couldn’t all be straight. Although if Justin had really been checking Kevin out, maybe his straight-dar was just broken?

Joey was plotting where the best places to add mistletoe would be when Kev’s distinctive chuckle - which always seemed so out of place on a six foot guy – drew Joey back to the moment. Justin had his arm around Lance’s shoulders and was drawing him away towards the back of the bar, and Kevin was tucking something into his jeans pocket. He looked up, and joined Joey at the far end of the bar.

"Looks like I have a happy client, and a party to go to tonight," Kevin summarised. "I need to run back home to get a couple of bits and pieces I don’t have in the van, but it’s nothing too serious. Maybe three hours work? You going to come with?"

"Actually, unless you need me, I might head on over to the shop, get a head start on the food for tonight."

"Fair enough – I’ll call you if I need an extra pair of hands, yeah?"

"Sure thing," Joey agreed, and watched as Lance followed Kevin out. The bar seemed awfully quiet.

"So, Joey, just the two of us, huh?" Justin returned, with a hand on Joey’s shoulder.

Joey pointed with a thumb back to the main door. "What’s with Lance?"

Justin held up a loaded key ring. "I told him I’d supervise so he could get some sleep."

"He did look pretty knackered," Joey had to admit. "He didn’t go home last night, did he?" Justin shook his head Joey had to smile. "You’re good people, Jus’ – anyone ever tell you that?"

Justin’s blue eyes sparkled as he proclaimed "But of course – I’m fabulous!" in an O.T.T. accent, one hand on his chest.

*****  
  
Justin turned the page in the new Dan Brown he was reading, and wriggled his shoulders against the plush leather of the seat. He could hear the occasional clatter and huff of Kevin working, but until the water was back on there wasn’t a whole lot for him to do, apart from make the occasional coffee run. The sticky glasses lined up on the bar back were twitching at him, and at least concentrating on the mad-cap adventures of the Professor beat fretting about unwashed glasses. He’d already swept up, taken all the bottles down to the collection bins, and worked leather polish into the furniture that had gotten wet last night, and hanging around Kevin as he worked was going to end up being distracting either to him or to Kevin.

A particularly loud clatter, followed by a low but definite curse, propelled Justin back to the bar.

"You okay?"

"Yes! Yeah, just – think this might be a two man job right here. Can you call Joey? Get him to run over for a bit?"

Justin nodded, and then realised that Kevin wouldn’t be able to see – he’d been talking to a pair of dark-denim clad knees again - and said ‘yes’ out loud, already pulling his phone out. "Unless – can I help?"

"Actually – not really. Joey’s done this before and it’s a bit tricky, but you can give me a hand holding this all together until he gets here."

Justin rang and Joey said he’d be over in ten, and Justin found himself on his back, staring up at the underside of a small sink, shoulder to shoulder with Kevin and in the unfamiliar situation of not knowing exactly how to fill the time.

"So, um, Kevin. How’d you know Joey?"

Kevin twisted his head, although it was hard to see much other than general facial shapes, pale skin and dark eyebrows, in the under-sink gloom. "I went to sixth form college with his brother – you know Steve, right?" Justin nodded, even though he’d not actually met the guy. "I used to hang out at their house, and just kind of got to know all of them – their sister’s a fox, by the way. Married, now, but – back then? Oh boy. We don’t see that much of each other these days, of course, but good friends stick around whatever, don’t they? Help each other out. How about you?"

"Through the shop, actually. It’s not even been that long, but it feels like … he’s a really fun guy, isn’t he – him and Chris."

"Chris is a maniac," Kevin corrected him, his shoulder shifting against Justin’s. "I’ve been to a couple of the Fatone barbeques that he’s been to, and he’s stark raving mad, that guy. He’s like a toddler on crack. I think I’d kill him if I had to work with him every day!"

Justin had to smile. "He can be a bit kind of full on, I guess."

"Just a bit. So, how come you’re doing this party with them, then?"

"Well, I was talking to Joey about how it kind of sucks that we spend the whole month doing Christmas parties for other people and then we don’t get to have one our selves, and he was all kind of ‘you should at least ask’ and …." About five minutes later, Justin twigged that he was rambling, and made himself wind up the world’s longest sentence, which was mostly singing Joey’s praises, and looked across the few inches separating them at Kevin. As far as Justin could tell Kevin was watching him carefully, and he didn’t say anything for a while. Justin tilted his head, questioningly.

"You like him, don’t you? Joey, I mean."

"Um." Justin was horribly certain that he was blushing.

Kevin nodded slowly to himself. "It’s about time he hooked up with someone who did. It’s been years since whatshisface, Jason? Oh, come on, stop stuttering at me like that! You really think that, at any point, being queer’s stopped Joey handing out relationship advice to us straight guys?"

Justin was definitely blushing.

Kevin chuckled. "God – if your boss hadn’t just left you in charge of the place I’d ask if you were even old enough to be in here. You must be fucking gone on him if you’re reacting like that. Seriously – you should say something. He’s good people, but he’s as thick as two short planks sometimes."

An electronic rendition of Paradise City broke the silence that was Justin trying and failing to find anything to say.

_I agonized of Justin's choice of ring tone, I really did. Sparklycasting left right and centre makes using a chart title seem odd, and I just couldn't make myself type the words 'Crazy Frog'. Plus, I'd grown quite fond of this Justin by this point in the story, and while I can completely imagine him reading Dan Brown, I don’t want to believe he'd pay money for the Crazy Frog._

"Speak of the devil," Kevin guessed, shifting one hand over Justin to take back the section of pipe Justin had been supporting. "Go let him in – I won’t say anything. Yet."

Justin headed for the locked doors trying not to think about the threat inherent in that sentence.

*****

It was getting dark by the time Joey had ferried the last batch of food over. Everything was done and dusted and only a few things needing to be re-heated in the industrial microwaves, which were as close as the tiny bar kitchen ran to real equipment. Thank heaven for Brian, because five ten minute journeys in an afternoon would be enough to piss off any normal driver, but Brian was willing to take payment in tea and gratitude.

_In retrospect there's absolutely no reason at all why Steve couldn't have run the whole lot over in the van, but – oh well. Shall we pretend that I did that on purpose to remind the reader of the opening scene? Lets._

Justin hurried ahead of him across the open space of the bar, and Brian helped them with the last trays, sliding them onto one of the low tables near the door, and then letting himself back out with a cheery ‘have fun.’

Joey and Justin surveyed the spread of food, and the progress Justin had made clearing up the place since Kevin had finally packed up and headed home to change.

"Looking good, huh?" Joey said.

"I think we did pretty damn good, yeah," Justin agreed, and they turned to each other, smiling.

Damn but Justin was a good looking lad, all tall and raw-boned and open. Joey stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Thanks man – it’s going to be a good night, and it’s all down to you," Joey said, for want of anything better to fill the space with.

"It is going to be good, isn’t it?"

"For sure. I’ve met my guys, and I’m pretty sure if anyone knows how to party it’s your lot, so what’s the hurt? It’ll be a blast. Good food, good drinks, a little music, a lot of laughter. It’ll work out just fine. Everyone wants to have fun, you know?"

Justin nodded, and then set his shoulders back. "Cool. Yeah. It’s going to rock. Coupla things I need to get done, and then – yeah. It’ll rock. You sticking around?"

Joey looked down at his grubby jeans and rumpled sweatshirt. "I kind of need to head home and change. I had to get up stupid early this morning to come in with Kevin. You got your stuff here?"

"Yep – I’ll stay put till Lance gets back in and then go get spruced up"

The silence was awkward between them, and Joey didn’t think it was just him. He squeezed one hand around the back of his own neck, and took his leave. "Okay, then. I guess I’ll see you later."

"Okay – later, Joey."

*****

Justin smoothed down his t-shirt and stared at himself in the mirror. The party was going to be awesome. He slipped on the close-fitting military-styled shirt with it’s artfully tattered detailing, and buttoned it carefully, leaving the top and bottom buttons open. The party was going to be great. He smoothed his hands over the soft stubble of his hair, and stroked one thumb over the freshly shaved skin of his jaw. The party was going to be perfect, and he wasn’t going to make an idiot of himself over Joey. He adjusted the buckle of his belt, pushing the shining silver a fraction to the left and shimmying his hips to ensure his new jeans were sitting just right. The party was going to be the best Christmas party ever, and he was going to kiss Joey and it was going to be fine.

_Writing this scene may, in fact, be the moment in time where I have been most in love with Justin Timberlake._

*****

Joey followed Steve and Kelly into the bar, stomach twisting a little with unaccountable nerves. There really was no reason to think it would be anything other than a good night, but that hadn’t stopped him changing his outfit twice, and then very nearly changing again when Kelly and Steve had picked him up, suited and booted and glamorous.

The bar was literally sparkling, between the spotlights and the mirrors, the fat white candles and the twinkling white Christmas lights that were draped around the tops of the seats. They were bang-on half seven, but the place was already full of people, smiling and chatting, and the music underneath was loud enough that Joey had to lean in close enough to smell Kelly’s perfume to hear her ‘thank you, Joe’.

They moved gradually towards the bar, and Joey wasn’t even half way there when he was accosted by Rico, who slapped Joey across the shoulders and dragged him into his own circle. "Hey! Joey! – this is my brother, Julio – you remember him? And this is Matt, from the bar. And …." Joey shock hands and made his introductions, and Matt, who was short and kind of manic in a way that made Joey hope that he and Chris never came into contact, pressed a glass into his hand, and the tension vanished under the influence of good company and sweet sweet alcohol.

_Enrique does really have a brother called Julio – I checked._

_And Matt Busted, obviously. You really can't tell I have a type when you line him and Chris up, at all. *cough*._

He was on his third glass when a familiar voice whispered ‘boo’ in his left ear. Joey dropped his shoulder and twisting, enveloping Chris in an easy hug.

"Hey! You made it!" he beamed. "I was starting to wonder where you’d got to."

"Took my time getting ready, is all." Chris winked suggestively and then flashed his eyes unsubtly to the side. Joey followed his line of sight. It took him a moment to recognise the tall elegant figure in evening dress as their new regular, JC. He was cradling a champaign cocktail and chatting to a pair of girls Joey didn’t recognise, and looking entirely at home. Joey nudged Chris with an elbow and stooped a little to be able to whisper into Chris’s ear.

"I thought you had your eye on Lance?"

"I do." Chris smiled again, wide and wicked. "Party favours are always a good ice breaker though, don’t you think?"

_Before DWNOGA gave me a plot and a pairing, I was toying with the idea of either Basez or Trickyfish, and really – why choose?_

"Chris!" Joey sputtered, but before he could formulate an actual sentence the lights dimmed, the volume dipped, and the buzz of conversation dried up enough for a voice Joey didn’t recognise to call for everyone’s attention. Shuffling round to face the bar, Joey lost track of Chris and found himself about three people away from a slight, tattoo-covered man, who was balancing on the bar, a martini glass held high in one hand.

"Thank you!" he called. "I’m Alex. Welcome to Bar Zed, and I’d like to propose a toast." The guy raised his glass "Happy fucking Christmas!"

Alex drained his glass amid catcalls and laughter, and dropped down behind the bar. Joey knocked back his own drink, before he registered Justin and Lance also behind the bar. The three of them, and a fourth guy Joey didn’t recognise, all held burning lighters high, then dropped them closer to the bar, perfectly synchronised.

Joey couldn’t quite see what they were doing, but the gasp of the front row caught his attention, and he craned up on tiptoe to see. He registered the dancing flames and then several matching sets of stacked glasses lining the bar; a row of short fat tumblers each with a brandy glass resting at an angle on top. The brandy glasses were bright blue bubbles of flame. There were four dark spots, and then the guys each shot a bright gout of flame into their last glasses, and they too lit up, burning blue. Lance, Justin and the other two moved up and down the bar twisting the angled stems of the balanced glasses with clever fingers, and Joey couldn’t help but grin, tucking his empty glass into the crook of his elbow and leading a round of applause.

_So I was talking to my friend the cocktail geek, saying that I wanted something a bit special for Lance and the guys to put on for the party, and he came up with this gem, which turned out to be really damn hard to write in, but utterly perfect for Lance – fire and alcohol – what's not to love? The cocktail involved is a Bastille Blazer. I'll copy in his instructions in a moment. The whisky glasses are full of just-boiled water to warm the brandy in the brandy glasses. The alcohol fumes are ignited by flaming a piece of orange peel into the glass, which involves heating a piece of orange peel over the lighter, and then squeezing it into the glass, through the lighter flame._

A girl standing next to him leaned over to tell Joey ‘that was pretty fucking sweet’ as the music started up again, and when Joey looked back to the bar all he could register was Justin, looking right at him with a golden smile. Justin held up his right hand and made a ‘come here’ gesture.

Joey went.

"Hey you." Justin leant over the bar, one large hand wrapping around the back of Joey’s neck to draw him in, his voice low enough to seem intimate. Joey’s heart was racing. "You should taste this."

It took Joey an embarrassing second or two to notice the glass Justin nudged against Joey’s fingers on the bar.

"Sniff it first, then sip," Justin urged, warm finger tips dragging behind Joey’s left ear. He did as instructed – warm brandy filling his head, sloshing over broken raspberries in the glass. When he tipped his head back to drink, it was bitter sweet and heated his throat. It felt like his cheeks were burning.  
__  
Bastille Blazer –  
1 1/2 shots Cognac  
2 fresh raspberries  
1/4 shot gomme (sugar) syrup

_Put all the ingredients in a brandy snifter and give a quick, gentle stir. Rest the snifter on it's side on a Rocks (whisky) glass full of freshly boiled water. Rotate the glass slowly to let the brandy heat and the fumes fill the glass (2 minutes-ish). When the brandy is good and hot flame an orange zest into the glass, which should ignite the brandy. Rotate the snifter, allowing the flames to play over the raspberries. This caramelises the raspberries a little. When done, stir just enough so that the raspberries break up in the glass, and transfer into another brandy snifter (or you'll burn your lips!). Drink invented by Courvoisier as a promotional thing to teach bartenders to get them using Couvoisier Brandy. Gorgeous, subtly bitter sweet raspberry brandy, with the warm brandy sending heady fumes up your nose. Lovely._

Justin vanished for a second, reappearing by Joey’s side, pressed hip to hip amongst the other guests, and Joey inclined his head so as not to shout. "It’s gorgeous."

Justin nodded, and then grinned and pointed up. Joey blinked and followed Justin’s fingers. Mistletoe. A large, unsubtle bunch tied with white ribbon dangling from the ceiling. He lowered his head, and Justin’s hand was hot on his neck, and Justin’s mouth was surprisingly gentle on his, and Justin’s waist fit into the palm of his hand like perfection, and Justin’s breath hitched when their lips parted, and Justin’s eyes were so very very blue close up, and his eyelashes caught the light, and then they were kissing again, and Justin’s lips parted under his tongue.

*****  
  
Justin felt light headed by the time they gradually stopped kissing and eased back just far enough to look each other in the eye. He almost didn’t want to look, because even though it had felt so very good, and Joey had responded, swift and sure, like he knew what he wanted, the ‘what ifs’ were cluttering up what was left of Justin’s thought processes.

When he did look, Joey’s eyes were unmistakably happy, maybe a little curious to boot, but definitely happy. Justin swooped in to brush one more kiss over Joey’s lips, to make sure they were smiling too. They were, and he knew he was.

"Hi," he whispered, as though all the people and noise around them wasn’t even there, which was pretty much how it felt to him.

"Hi," Joey replied. "You, um, we."

Justin smiled, and did it again, quick and light, fitting his hand around the curve of Joey’s hip, feeling the cotton and leather shift against his palm.

The way Joey’s broad smile spread over his face like sunshine was all the answer he needed.

"Come on," he urged, shifting his hand to push Joey towards the fire escape, and Joey went easily, sliding through the crowd with smiles and thank yous. As the people thinned out, Justin twisted ahead of Joey; it felt as though his blood was bubbling like champagne and the sensation just amped up even further when Joey took his hand, broad and dry and hot, palm to palm. When they tumbled through the fire doors into the cool dim stairwell, Justin didn’t much want to stop himself pulling Joey close and sliding his hands up across Joey’s sides and tasting that smoky-sweet mouth again.

Joey’s hand on Justin’s hips made him shiver, and the scrape of painted breezeblock against his back was just the most amazing counterpoint to Joey’s hot, heavy body leaning in against him, the way that Joey took over and pinned him down and pushed his tongue against Justin’s, the way Joey wanted him. Justin moaned through the kiss, and Joey’s hips moved against his, sharp and urgent. Joey’s hands were wandering, shoulder and neck; waist and hip and arse and thigh. Justin took that as an invitation to return the favour, and Joey’s arse, full and firm against the palm of his hand, was everything he’d imagined, denim scraping his skin as the muscles tightened and moved, rocking them together. He’d watched Joey downing strong cocktails for the past hour, but from the firm heat pressed against Justin’s thigh that wasn’t going to be a problem. In fact, he almost wished he’d had a few himself, to take the edge off and help him do something less stupid than drive his hips back against Joey’s and not even think about stopping or talking.

_Believe me, this scene was a lot of fun to imagine and to write. Incidentally, one of the outfits Joey rejected was a suit – he went the more trendy route, with good jeans and a fitted untucked open necked shirt._

He was mouthing down Joey’s neck, inhaling his aftershave and noticing the way Joey’s carefully trimmed beard tickled and was smooth under his mouth, the salt-sweet taste of Joey’s skin, when Joey’s breathy ‘oh yeah’ and ‘mmmm’s changed tone.

"Justin, st …. Shit." Another caressing squeeze of Joey’s fingers "Justin? Hold up, a .. mmm .. just a second."

Justin managed to still his mouth and loosen his hold enough that they could separate and look at each other, panting. The buzz of the party was clearly audible though the fire doors.

"Joey?"

"God, Justin, just – yeah." Joey dragged a hand down over his face. "You’re sure, right?"

"Fucking sure. Been waiting three weeks, haven’t I?" Justin tried to keep the tone light in the face of Joey’s earnest expression. He stroked the back of his hand over Joey’s cheek, feeling the muscles move as his smile widened. "Not drunk, not desperate, just kind of over the moon that you want me back." He couldn’t look away from Joey’s eyes.

"God. Talk about Christmas presents I don’t deserve."

They kissed a little more, slower, more gently, and then Joey pulled back again. "You okay doing this here?"

Justin smiled against Joey’s neck. "Gay bar, Joey. They’ll probably set off a round of party poppers when we go back in, if anyone even noticed us go."

"Like anyone could not notice you," Joey smiled back, skimming the flats of his hands up and down Justin’s sides. "You want to come back to mine, later?"

"Yeah." Justin nodded, pulling Joey closer so he’d stop teasing. "I do. Or, I could go down on you now." Joey’s hand stuttered, and Justin grinned. "And, you know, go back to yours later."

"I like the way you think," Joey smiled into Justin’s neck, his breath hot and fluttery. Justin’s skin was goosbumping, and he wasn’t convinced that it had anything to do with the air temperature.

"Cool." Justin braced his shoulders against the wall, and shimmied, getting Joey off balance enough to be pirouetted to their positions were reversed, the heel of Justin’s hand against the wall over Joey’s shoulder, and his right thigh firmly between Joey’s, encouraging him to spread his legs a little. "So do I."

Joey’s head rocked back as he laughed, his chest and belly moving against Justin, and Justin craned forward to draw his tongue in a long flat drag along Joey’s exposed throat, transforming the chuckles into a gasp. Justin kissed him, hard and sure, like a man on a mission, and Joey’s hands were on his arse again, encouraging him, just like Joey’s movements were, and Joey’s sounds and the way Joey’s tongue was pushing against his own.

He pushed Joey’s shirt out of the way, working Joey’s belt buckle, his button fly, his underwear. Joey hissed and held his breath and arched, giving Justin plenty of room to slide chilly fingers into the snug sexy thatch of Joey’s crotch. He teased, exploring with sensitised finger tips, tracing around the rapidly firming girth of Joey’s cock in the awkward space between them, and then jerked his other arm around Joey’s waist, pulling him close enough to kiss some more while Justin’s hand explored further.

When Joey was panting and close to whimpering, Justin dragged his fingers slowly up, teasing Joey’s balls and avoiding his shaft, and then used both hands to shove Joey’s jeans out of the way, sliding down to his knees with them. Joey cursed under his breath, glaring for a second at the closed fire doors, and then letting his head sink back and his hands find Justin’s shoulders, his neck, his face. Justin ducked his head to catch Joey’s hand, sucking on the thumb and swirling his tongue against to crook of the knuckle joint, keeping Joey shivering and wanting while Justin slipped the condom packet out of his own pocket. Always be prepared.

Justin played for a while, nuzzling and lipping at Joey’s pale thighs, fingers spread over the delicate skin of Joey’s hips, breathing in the smell of him with no chemical tang to interfere. He swept his fingers down the crease between groin and thighs, which made Joey catch his breath and tense, and then drew his fingertips over Joey’s tightening ball sac. Which made Joey’s fingers tighten, urgent, on Justin’s shoulder, which in turn made Justin’s heart rate jump. He had to force himself to draw in a long breath, in and slowly out, to restrain himself to merely mouthing the hot dry length of Joey’s erection, careful to avoid the gathering moisture of the head. He smelt so fucking good. Saliva pooled in Justin’s mouth, and it was an effort not to give in, to lick and suck and swallow.

Instead he held the foil sharp edged against his tongue, and tugged, tearing the packet and working the condom free with one hand. Slid it warm and smooth and safe into position, kneeling up to rub his cheek against the soft swell of Joey’s stomach, and Joey’s hands were gentle, petting his face, and he couldn’t read Joey’s expression in the dim light, but he could hear the tremor in Joey’s voice as Joey whispered his name, over and over.

Justin didn’t tease when he swallowed Joey down. He took him deep and hard for a moment, two, and then pulled back to explore, working his tongue this way and that, learning the size, the curve, the heat and weight of his cock. Figuring out by trial and success which angles and actions made Joey curl forward, made his cock pulse under the rubber, made him bite his own hand to keep from crying out, and then, finally, with one thumb dragging over Joey’s balls and the other pressed hard to Joey’s hip, that long, twisting suction, base to tip, made Joey tense and shake and come with wide eyes, and a muffled ‘God, Justin. God.’

It was almost painful when he moved, Justin was so hard, and he was newly aware of the chilled concrete under his knees, the muted sound of the party going on only feet away. He slipped the rubber off and carefully tucked Joey’s softening cock away, finding his feet by sliding up Joey’s body, hungry for the contact, for Joey’s mouth on his, Joey’s hands firm and hot on Justin’s body.

_One is not supposed to admit that one thinks what one was write is pretty fucking hot, right? In which case I ain't got shit to say here…Unholy love for this scene. Unholy._

"God, Justin." Joey spoke between gradually gentling kisses, as Justin started to untangle himself. "You are. God. You want?" His hand went to Justin’s crotch, careful fingers sending shivers through Justin, even as he shook his head, twisting away.

"Uh uh. Later. I want – later. You, all to myself, and, um, yeah." Justin could feel himself blushing. Way to sound all sexy and confident. Joey’s fingers were gentle but insistent, and when Justin gave in and let Joey lift his chin, he was met by a firm but gentle kiss, and warm eyes that promised sincerity.

"So, you want to blow this joint?" Joey smirked the cheesy line like a pro, and the laughter that followed chased away any weirdness. Justin kissed him back, dry lips to lips, and squeezed Joey’s hand. Joey grinned, leaning one hand on the swing door.

"Yeah – let’s go!"

***** End *****


End file.
